


Don't Hold Your Breath

by Daiya_Darko



Category: Marvel, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Rape Recovery, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daiya_Darko/pseuds/Daiya_Darko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was six months ago and it was probably his fault, but that doesn't stop the nightmares or panic attacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Hold Your Breath

_Deep breaths – you can do this, Peter. It’s been half a year since you’ve even seen him._

His hand shakes as he slides his card through the reader and the elevator opens for him. This should be fun, exciting even. Meeting all of the Avengers, including Hank Pym, should be fun.

_You’ll be too busy to be stuck talking to him anyways._

Peter tries to calm himself down, but as the elevator rises, he can feel burning in the back of his throat and tears forming in his eyes as memories of what happened six months ago fill his head.

_I shouldn’t have drank anyways. I can’t hold my liquor. I just laid there. I didn’t say anything. I should have fought back._

Proportional strength of a spider and it still was useless against getting taken advantage of while drunk. Peter refuses to call it what it was – rape – because that means he was a victim, and how can a superhero be a victim?

The doors slide open, and there are various people, all in plain clothes milling about. Peter only knows a few; the last party was much bigger and more for press; this one is for SHIELD and costumed heroes. Nervously, he steps out of the lift and tries to casually make his way to the bar. Maybe things will go easier if he just gets drunk again.

Before he can make it, Tony intercepts him, grinning from ear to ear. Peter tries to smile back, forcing the bile down his throat. He hasn’t eaten all day or last night; he’s been too nervous to do more than drink a little water in between periods of crying.

“Pete! Come on over, let me introduce you to the fellow scientists!” Tony slings his arm around Peter, who visibly flinches, shrinking away. Tony lets him go and gives him a strange look. “I’m not going to hurt you, Peter.”

“Ha, I know. It’s a…spider thing,” Peter explains, looking everywhere but at Tony, knowing he’d be able to read him like a children’s book if he isn’t careful. Tony shrugs, but doesn’t try to touch Peter again, for which Peter is thankful as they continue walking over to a corner of the room where a few older men are standing. Already, he recognizes Henry Pym, and he feels a bubble of excitement when he sees Reed Richards laughing next to him.

Then he sees him, the man who took advantage of him in every way.

They make eye contact – Peter blinks and looks away, but the man doesn’t even seem fazed.

“Gentlemen, let me introduce you all to our youngest member of scientific geniuses, Peter Parker,” Tony introduces, and Peter shakes all of their hands, including _his_ and tries not to vomit or cry.

He looks Peter in the eye when their hands meet; Peter hates him so much.

“Bruce Banner. Nice to meet you,” he says, and the casual niceness in his voice makes Peter’s entire body shiver. He knows that voice too well; can hear it in his nightmares.

_“I can’t help myself; you’re just so precious.”_

_“Please…stop.”_

_“No, look,” his hands reach between Peter’s legs and grab his semi-hard dick. “You want this as much as I do.”_

_“No,” Peter tries to shove him away, tries to turn his face from Bruce’s, heavy with alcohol, but Bruce forces his face to meet his._

_“Stop complaining. You should be so lucky anyone pays any attention to your mediocre ass.”_

_And inside his head, Peter thinks he’s right. He should be lucky anyone would want him enough to rape him._

Peter blinks back tears and stammers, “I, uh, I’m gonna get a drink if you guys don’t mind,” Peter slowly backs away.

“Hey kid, don’t be nervous around us!” Hank pats him on the back, and Peter immediately slaps his hand out the air.

“Don’t touch me!” he snaps, and everyone fixes him with a surprised stare. Peter feels his face heating up, and quickly apologizes, rushing past Tony and Reed to rush to the bar.

The burn of cold vodka in his throat almost distracts him from the way his stomach is churning painfully. His back and shoulders hurt, hunched in a defensive position. He tries not to think about how Bruce acted like he didn’t know him, acted like nothing had happened. And maybe Peter would also think nothing happened, except he knows because he still has nightmares that wake him up in the middle of the night.

“You look awfully nervous for a person surrounded by superheroes,” a female voice says next to him. Peter glances up at the redhead leaning against the bar and sighs.

“I’ve just had a rough night.”

“Still, you’re among friends, Peter.”

At the sound of his name, he tilts his head in confusion. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

She gives him a curious smile and shakes her head. “Not formally, no. I know your file, however, and I make it my job to make sure less than three people know mine.”

Peter gives her an inquisitive look, and then it dawns on him. “Agent Romanov.”

“Yes, and you’re shaking like a shaved Chihuahua. Why is that? Drugs? Are you a mole?”

“No!” Peter almost shouts, but his voice cracks. “I just…there’s someone here I’m not too fond of being around.”

“Is it Tony? Because trust me, he’s not that bad to be around when he’s drunk. And Thor's big, but he's a gentle giant.”

Peter gives a half-hearted chuckle. “No, not them, but…I guess I need to get over this fear since Tony wants me to intern for him and they seem to be really close.”

Natasha follows Peter’s gaze across the room, and it hits her. “Banner isn’t the Hulk. He’s a pretty stable guy.”

Peter scoffs. “Not from what I’ve seen.”

Sipping her drink, Natasha asks, “What does that mean?”

“I shouldn’t say.”

“Peter, if you know something important, you need to tell someone.”

“No one would believe me.”

“Try me.”

She’s giving him a challenging glare, and it almost scares him, but Peter isn’t that shaken. After a staring match of a few minutes, Peter breaks down.

“I…the party six months ago?” He begins, trying to steady his voice. When Natasha nods, affirming she knows what he’s talking about, he continues, “I met Bruce there. But we were both drunk. I mean, I was _really_ drunk, which was the first mistake, but he wasn’t as drunk. But…yeah. And we were talking with a bunch of people in a room and then they all left except me and him,” Peter paused to take a sip of his drink. Natasha rested her hand on his, gripping the wood of the bar until it had started to crack. Realizing this, Peter took a deep breath and released the edge.

“We were talking and then I said I was really tired, and he said Tony had extra rooms for people for that reason. So he helped me to one of them. I was sleeping, and then I woke up and felt him…touching me, taking my shirt off and kissing my back and shoulders. I woke up but I was still really drunk. And I tried to roll away from him, but he pinned me down and started – “ Peter chokes, trying to find the strength to continue, but Natasha doesn’t let go of his hand. She removes his glass from his hand and takes his other hand in hers.

“You don’t have to continue, Peter,” she says quietly, but he shakes his head.

“No, you’re right. I have to tell someone about him,” Peter rubs away a few stray tears and sniffs. “He was groping me and kissing me and I kept telling him to stop, but he said I wanted it. I mean, I was kind of hard – “

“That’s a natural body reaction; that doesn’t mean you wanted it,” Natasha states matter-of-factly, and it takes all of Peter’s strength not to break down and start sobbing in her arms, because someone has just excused him. Maybe none of it was his fault after all, and that means he isn’t being silly or overdramatic. He lets her lead him to an empty room, and there, he breaks down, rehashing everything that happened that night. He explains to her his anxiety, his depression, his general feeling of unworthiness and dirtiness. He talks about how he can’t sleep more than four hours at a time or else dreams will come and it’s been affecting his school work and crime fighting. Spider-man is a hero; heroes don’t get to call in sick because they’re too depressed to get out of bed or afraid of the common thug they may encounter. Natasha is silent, simply taking in everything and letting Peter cry. Peter’s thankful, because the last thing he needs is pity talk or advice; he just needs someone to _know_ that on this team of heroes is one person who isn’t as noble as others may think. She doesn't try to hug him either, for which Peter is doubly grateful. He's not sure he could handle physical contact right now, no matter how comforting.

When he’s got nothing left to say, Natasha says, “You need to confront him.”

Peter blows into another tissue and shakes his head. “I can’t do that. He acted like he didn’t even know.”

“Peter, if he was that drunk, he probably didn’t. You need to talk to him about it.”

Peter starts crying again, and then stops. “What if he denies it?”

“Then I’ll kill him,” Natasha says simply. It makes Peter laugh, because how do you kill the man who turns into the Hulk? But it’s enough to raise his spirits somewhat.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll probably need some time to calm down and relax again before I do.”

“You don’t have to do it tonight, but when you’re ready, go for it.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Peter, Bruce is hardly trusted by anyone right now except Tony, which kind of makes sense when you think about it. I’d expect this from Tony, but he’s pretty good as long as Pepper’s around, which is always. I won’t tell anyone until after you’ve talked with Bruce.”

Peter nods and says, “Thanks. Sorry I distracted you from the party.”

Natasha waves him away with a hand. “I didn’t even want to come but someone has to babysit Clint, and Kate’s not here.”

They return to the party, and with his feelings and fears newly validated, Peter doesn’t feel so sick anymore. Now someone else knows who is in the room, and he can finally let his shoulders down. He tries poorly to mingle with Hank and Reed again, and they wordlessly forgive him for his earlier behavior. Bruce is nowhere to be found, fortunately, and that leads Peter to believe maybe he remembered and left out of shame or fear.

But then the night winds down, and Peter finds him sitting alone in a corner with a drink in his hand. Tony is prodding at Bruce, trying to convince him to come to the after party, but Bruce smiles tiredly and shakes his head. Peter catches his eye, but before he can turn to walk away, Bruce calls out, “Peter, wait.”

Frozen, Peter obeys, and mentally kicks himself for not being stronger. He waits for Bruce to get close, then starts to walk away to the back patio. Bruce follows him, and Peter just hopes he doesn’t try to touch him again, because if so, the fragile façade he’s worked all night to build will fall apart like a house of cards.

“So…” Bruce begins, “How have you been?”

Peter could almost laugh if the urge to throw up weren’t so close to the surface. “Me? Oh, I’ve been fine. You know, finding time in between school and Spider-man to have nervous breakdowns and look for a job.”

Bruce’s smile falls. “I wanted to apologize to you, but when I woke up, you had left and I didn’t know where to find you.”

“Bullshit!” Peter yells, and he throws his glass at the wall by Bruce’s head. Bruce doesn’t even flinch.

“Maybe. I guess I figured you didn’t want to see me.”

“Uh, yeah! You ruined my life!” Peter yells. “I can’t even fucking sleep properly because of you!”

Bruce looks genuinely remorseful, and rubs his face tiredly. “I acted out of character that night. I never would have done that sober. I’ve given up alcohol all together.”

Peter just stares at him, amazed that Bruce thinks that’s enough. “Yeah, and did you tell anyone about what you did?”

“Yes. I told Director Fury.”

“What?”

Bruce looks away, sighing. “I was ashamed and I guess I was looking for a reason to get kicked out of the Avengers, because I didn’t want to admit this is my home. So I went to him and told him what happened. He gave me the verbal ass whooping of a lifetime; threatened me with prison time if I didn’t come and make things right with you before the statute of limitations was up.”

“He…he was going to send you to jail?”

“Well, he was going to do something a lot worse than prison, but yes,” Bruce looks solemn as his voice drops. “I had to tell you before the statute of limitations was up, that I would plead guilty if you took this to court. He's actually got a tracer on me so that I can't flee, and I'm on suspension.”

At a loss for words, Peter simply says, “Oh.”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t even forgive myself, but if you take this to court, I won’t stop you.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” Bruce asks. “You’re not going to throw me over the balcony or call me names?”

As if all the fight has left him, Peter says, “No. I told Natasha everything, and the Hulk would just make a mess. The only thing I want you to do is tell Tony what happened. If I’m going to be his intern and you’re going to be around a lot, he needs to know.”

Bruce nods eagerly. “I promise, I’ll tell him. And again, I’m sorry.”

Peter shrugs. “Just never touch me again, got it?” He doesn’t wait to hear Bruce agree in compliance, because he walks back in quickly and leaves without saying anything to anyone.

Alone at his apartment, Peter replays everything in his head. He almost wanted Bruce to deny things, to try and blame him, because that would mean Peter could cause a scene and let out all the anger he had inside. But most of that anger has somehow turned into exhaustion; he issimply tired of being afraid and feeling silly for being afraid. He is tired of having to fake being strong around everyone. He could take it to court, but then Aunt May would learn what happened and Peter would rather that never happen. She worries enough as is.

Lying down, Peter tries to sleep, but he’s still afraid. He cries soft tears of relief, knowing someone is on his side in all this. He cries short, cracked sobs because he can never forget what happened. He wails, because he still can’t stop blaming himself, even though he knows it wasn’t his fault. He doesn’t want to think of himself as a victim, but now he has to come to terms with the facts if he wants to hope to move on.

_I was raped._

_Bruce Banner raped me._

_Having super powers wasn’t enough to save me, but dammit I can get through._

_Deep breaths, Peter. You can do this._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this mostly for my own therapeutic needs. I had to calm down, because I have to come to terms with the fact that I'll most likely encounter my attacker again in the months to come, if I ever want to go to a convention in town again. I hope it goes as smoothly as this; I'm assured it will, but man it's just really stressful to think about. It's been six months and I'm still triggered by my own writing sometimes.
> 
> Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. I hope someone else can find solace in this.


End file.
